


You Only See What I Let You See

by frk_werewolf (wolfelements)



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, M/M, Spencer wants a regular life, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans people are normal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:55:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6782488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfelements/pseuds/frk_werewolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You're not ashamed of who you are," Ryan said forcibly. "If he can't handle the change you're going through or the fact that your physical body doesn't quite meet up with who you are on the inside then I'm not so sure I want him in this band."</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Only See What I Let You See

**Author's Note:**

> When I first posted this on Livejournal I was so nervous. But I got a great response.
> 
> I'm not trans. I was born female and feel female. But I feel female because I'm also pansexual and don't feel that gender has anything to do with anything. But other people don't. And that okay, because you can't see a person until they are so comfortable that they act as themselves, dress/behave/breathe as themselves. My husband accepts me wearing male clothes and enjoying male things (he doesn't get why I like guns and car engines, but he accepts) and I don't care that sometimes he wear lingerie (actually it's hot, he so has the hips for it).
> 
> People are people, and I wrote this to show that we all struggle. Regardless. But we should also all accept. Unless it is hurting someone, especially kids (which is usually heterosexual white males in their 30s according to FBI profiling).
> 
> Woo! Onto the story!

"Shit. Fuck," Spencer growled, twisting his body in an attempt to reach between his shoulder blades. He sighed and relaxed his arms, taking a moment to pull the tan binding tighter around his chest. He reached backward again, his reflection in the mirror resembling a contortionist. The clasps fumbled in his hands as he attempted to hook them in place. They slipped out of his grasp. "God damn it!"

"Spencer?" Ryan's soft voice echoed through the doorway. 

Spencer's head dropped down and he held the elastic binding in front of himself, drawing in a deep breath, hoping to relax. "Come in."

Ryan slipped inside easily, shutting the door before there was a chance of anyone seeing Spencer. Ryan eyed him a moment, before walking over and gently taking the material from his hands. The bus' tiny bathroom hardly gave enough room for Ryan to maneuver behind him, but Ryan managed. Spencer watched their reflection as Ryan slowly tightened the binding, causing Spencer's chest to flatten, to hide something he didn't want to believe was there. Ryan glanced up as he hooked the clasps into place.

"What's wrong?" Ryan finally asked.

"I just...wanted to make sure he didn't notice," Spencer admitted, scowling at his own words.

"Jon's seen you before," Ryan pointed out, resting his hand between Spencer's shoulder blades and meeting his eyes through the mirror.

"Not--" Spencer huffed. "He's going to be staying on our bus with us. Close up, Ryan! What if he suspects or--?"

"You're not ashamed of who you are," Ryan said forcibly. "If he can't handle the change you're going through or the fact that your physical body doesn't quite meet up with who you are on the inside then I'm not so sure I want him in this band."

"I know. I'm being paranoid." Spencer's jaw clenched and he reached for his shirt, nearly rolling his eyes as Ryan fussed with it, tugging it into place. 

"You didn't tell me how the doctor's appointment went," Ryan commented, moving toward the door. 

Slowly, Spencer smiled. "They, uh, approved of it. The testosterone injections, I mean. It's going to be hard keep up with the doses what with touring, but it's definitely doable. It's worth the effort."

"Of course it is," Ryan replied, smiling back. He pulled open the door to reveal Brendon standing there, fist raised to knock.

"Oh hey, guys!" Brendon beamed. He wiggled his eyebrows. "Was there a meeting in the urinal without my knowledge?"

"Where's Jon?" Ryan asked, pushing past Brendon.

Brendon draped himself over Spencer when he emerged, still grinning. "Being warned about our fiendish ways by William. You'd think William thought we were evil masterminds or something." Brendon paused, glancing over at Spencer. "Well, maybe he's right about one of us. But I'm perfectly innocent--"

Ryan snorted.

"I am!" Brendon protested, before innocently groping Spencer's ass. Spencer swiped at him, but Brendon has learned how to dodge Spencer's hits within a week of meeting him. "What? It was a love pat!"

"Jon's going to think we're insane," Spencer commented.

"Oh, good, then I'll feel right at home," Jon said from the bus doorway, smiling brightly.

*

Spencer doesn't exactly remember his very first conversation with Ryan; he was way too young of course. But he does remember, distinctly, telling Ryan at the so-called tender age of eight that he was going to be a boy when he grew up.

"But...you're a girl," Ryan said, eyeing Spencer's pink shirt with a vague sense of confusion.

"Maybe now I am, but God got it wrong," Spencer insisted. He was sure of this. It was the only explanation; even though as an eight year old Spencer didn't really have a good grasp of what God was, exactly, except the people on television seemed to think God controlled things. And some even claimed that if you sent them money, God would work magic. Spencer had thought about saving up his allowance and sending it in, asking for a boy's body, but his mother's habit of scoffing and turning the channel gave him the impression that these people didn't know what they were talking about.

"But...if you're going to be a boy, then you have to have a boy's name," Ryan said, logically.

"I do," Spencer replied, rolling his eyes.

"Well, what is it then? I've never heard it!" Ryan didn't like being the last person to know things. Which is why Spencer had told him about really being a boy before he told his mother. 

"My real name's Spencer," he replied.

Ryan eyed him again, biting his lip. Then, he shrugged. "Okay. I can call you Spencer."

After that, Ryan had taken it in complete stride that Spencer was in fact a boy. Ryan had the habit of believing people were what they wanted to be, and not what others forced them to be. So, if Spencer felt like a boy, then he was a boy. It had taken until middle school before Spencer had realized how lucky he was to have a friend that open minded.

*

The thing was, most people expected Spencer's transgender identity to be a big deal. When Pete had found out he had freaked, wondering how they were going to keep this quiet because he knew the tabloids would just hound Spencer. But Spencer had been acting out the part of a boy in every aspect but physical since he had been allowed to take over his own clothing choices and had gained a small amount of independence from his mother's side. He knew how to play the game, how to keep people from suspecting.

In fact, Spencer prided himself in being so good at being a boy that he was even able to wear girl's clothing without anyone questioning.

The day Spencer received his first testosterone shot he had expected to feel different, like he would suddenly feel manlier or something. But he felt the same, only justified. Finally, after all of these years of knowing he was in a mold that didn't fit he was getting it fixed, he was doing something about it.

"What are you so happy about?" Jon asked, smiling. 

Spencer let his hair fall into his eyes and picked at the knee of his jeans. He shrugged. "Nothing."

"That's not a nothing face. That's a dream come true happy face," Jon replied, bumping Spencer's shoulder with his own.

"Maybe...maybe my dream did come true," Spencer said slowly, looking up to meet Jon's eyes. Jon looked at him a moment, almost staring, before his gaze pulled away.

"That's good," Jon offered. "Though I don't see how anyone could be excited about going to the doctor. You're a weird one, Spencer Smith."

"Says the man that got excited over beaded flip-flops," Spencer said derisively.

"I'll turn you to the dark side someday, just you wait."

"The dark side of flip-flops."

"Exactly," Jon grinned.

"Right," Spencer stood, stretching, ignoring Jon's eyes gravitating toward his hips. He fought down a blush. No matter how easily he was able to bind his breasts down, hide them from even his own view, his hips presented a problem. Thankfully, most people seemed to find a boy with slight curves attractive instead of a freak, as compared to the hooligans he went to high school with.

He turned away from Jon and ventured to the back of the bus, where he spotted Brendon watching a movie. Thankful Ryan wasn't around to see, Spencer crawled onto the couch next to Brendon and curled up against his side. He always felt a moment of weakness when this close to Brendon, like by a simple touch Brendon had the ability to bare his soul to the world.

"Tired?" Brendon asked, his head dropping onto Spencer's shoulder. 

Spencer hummed in reply and let Brendon rub circles into his side.

*

"He's going to freak out!" Spencer hissed, twisting the lid off his soda with a violent jerk. He could hear Brendon laughing in the other room with Brent.

"If he's going to be in this band--" Ryan began.

"Then we need to make sure he's not a bastard who will judge me," Spencer recited. "Ryan, look at how Brent looks at me. Brendon's led an even more cloistered life than him. Last time I checked Mormons didn't approve of gender changes."

"But it's important that--" Ryan started.

"Ryan!" Spencer snapped, voice low and even. "I love you, but I'm getting a little sick and tired of being your cause for social justice."

Ryan blinked at him, mouth opening before snapping shut. After a moment's pause he nodded, turning back to the refrigerator to grab another drink. He was obviously hiding behind the door. Spencer sighed, reached out and ruffled Ryan's hair. He could see Ryan's back visibly relax.

"Maybe...maybe I'll tell him," Spencer said softly.

He didn't tell Brendon right away. In fact, he waited three months. In the mean time, Brendon acted oblivious. Even to this day Spencer doesn't know if Brendon ever suspected. Probably not, because upon being told that the drummer of his new band was actually a female who was a male on the inside? Brendon had blinked rapidly, looked him up and down, and asked to be left alone for a few minutes.

"I told you he was going to react badly," Spencer told Ryan, gripping his drumsticks and ignoring the looks Brent was shooting them.

Spencer didn't let Ryan reply. Instead, he stormed over to his drum kit and began playing, releasing a tide of steady beats and harsh rhythms, pretending he was the only person in the room. It was easier behind his drums to pretend this all wasn't an actual problem. That he wasn't some kind of freak who couldn't get over the fact that, yes, he had breasts and a fucking vagina. Here, arms flying and sweat forming between his shoulder blades, he was exactly what he wanted to be: a drummer, a male drummer. 

A hand landed on his shoulder, yanking him from his thoughts. He jerked in shock, twisting on his stool to see Brendon. He had a look of uncertainty on his face, but he was smiling, a gentle curve of his lips. Slowly, Spencer returned the smile.

"You are who you are, Spencer Smith," Brendon said softly. "And fuck if I'm going to let a lack of boy parts keep me from being your friend."

Brent shook his head from his corner of the room, while Spencer pulled Brendon into a small hug, which grew tighter with Brendon's enthusiasm. Spencer glanced over at Brent and sighed. It wasn't that Brent didn't like Spencer; they would have been best friends if Ryan weren’t already in that role. Its just Brent was uncomfortable when the topic of Spencer's actual gender came up. He was obviously happier being ignorant.

*

Sometimes Spencer wanted to go out onstage and scream into the microphone, to tell the whole world exactly what he was and exactly what he was doing to his body. The urge became stronger the more testosterone shots he received. There was a tension in his body now, and knowledge that he was fundamentally changing in a way that he had always assumed could only occur mentally. 

He thought of all the teenagers feeling stuck in a body not their own and wondered if by going public he could help them, keep them from feeling like outcasts. But he couldn't. Not even Spencer Smith was strong enough for the backlash that would cause.

Sometimes Spencer stood in front of the mirror, looking at the sharp planes of his jaw and the roundness of his cheeks. He was starting to get stubble due to the shots, but he hadn't given into shaving yet. He was almost afraid that if he shaved, the hair wouldn't come back and it would have all been a dream.

It was becoming harder to hide from Jon, though. Ryan, Brendon, and Jon had no problem changing in front of each other, so Jon was bound to have noticed Spencer dodging behind doors or waiting until they had left to change.

Thankfully, Jon was nothing if not a gentleman and he was still unsure of his place in the band, despite having been made an official member a month ago. So, he said nothing and Spencer felt secure in knowing he was hiding things well.

"How much longer are you going to keep it from Jon?" Brendon asked, not looking up from his video game. 

Spencer shot a glance at the bunks, where Jon was supposedly sleeping. "What do you mean?"

Brendon glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. Normally it was Ryan that bugged him about this. Ryan, who didn't see the point in hiding anything and believed that if he could be himself then everyone else had the same right. Brendon usually didn't comment.

"Do you think I should?" Spencer sighed, curling in on himself, arms wrapping around his knees. Brendon let out a thoughtful sound, seriously thinking about it. "I don't want Jon to end up like Brent."

"It wasn't your fault, you know," Brendon said. "I know Brent said, when you called him...but he was just lashing out. Brent drifting away from us wasn't about you being transgendered." Brendon sent him a smile. "You're not that special, Spencer."

Spencer smiled slightly and Brendon went back to his video game. Spencer watched him for a few more minutes, before a yawn was ripped from his throat. Standing, he stretched and made his way to the bunks.

*

The idea of hanging out with bands like My Chemical Romance still boggled Spencer's mind. He knew he was bound to run into a My Chem member sooner or later, especially with all of the award shows they had been attending. The after parties all looked the same: the same drinks, the same people. 

Feeling overwhelmed, Spencer found a lone balcony and stepped out into the night, breathing in the air and shutting the door behind him.

"Gets a little crazy in there, huh?" a voice asked. Spencer spun, spotting a dark figure leaning against the wall. Gerard grinned at him, a cigarette dangling loosely from his hand. "Sorry."

"I don't want to intrude--" Spencer started, heading back toward the door.

"Hey," Gerard cut him off, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, closer to the railing. Gerard moved to rest his forearms against the rail, peering up at Spencer with narrowed eyes. "You don't have to go. You're...what's the name...Spencer?"

"Yeah," Spencer replied, ignoring the swirling in his stomach. Gerard Way knew his name. Life couldn't get anymore bizarre. He turned away, looking up at the sky. The smog of whatever city they were in--Los Angeles? Sometimes they blurred.--made the stars dimmer, the atmosphere of the planet causing them to flicker. His mind raced through astronomy lessons as he tried to ignore Gerard, who seemed content to occasionally take a drag of his cigarette and peer down at civilization.

"Kind of makes you feel alone, doesn't it?" Gerard finally asked.

"Huh?"

Gerard waved his hand in a gentle flourish. "This. Look around you. There's so much out there and we're just two people. How can we be so important?"

Spencer had often asked that himself, though he had often changed the context, wondering why he was so important that he could feel justified in hating his own sex. "We're only important to those that know us."

"Probably," Gerard sighed. Spencer could feel Gerard's eyes on him, boring holes into his shields and armor. Spencer shivered. "Why aren't you at the party, living it up?"

"Why aren't you?" Spencer returned, turning to look at him. Their eyes met and Gerard smiled.

"Sometimes it's safer to avoid certain vices if you're not in the same room as them," Gerard admitted. "And I was feeling kind of down, so..." Gerard ground his cigarette into the railing, before turning his body to fully face Spencer. "You?"

"Being in there...it's like wearing a mask," Spencer said softly. "And... I have to wear a costume every day; I just wanted one night where I didn't have to. But, even if I was to go back to the hotel...I'd have to wear a mask for the security and..."

"It's not easy hiding in plain view."

Spencer's eyes darted away from Gerard, before jerking back, unable to stay away from him for too long. Gerard's face appeared too knowing, too clever. Spencer always had the suspicion, watching the interviews with My Chemical Romance, that Gerard was good at reading people and good at figuring out secrets. He had the type of gaze that could bore into someone's soul, like Brendon's touch and Ryan's loyalty.

"Hey, hey. Fuck, I'm sorry," Gerard said, taking two steps forward, bringing himself close to Spencer. Spencer sucked in a breath, suddenly aware that he could smell Gerard, even touch him if he reached out the scant inches.

"It's fine," Spencer told him. And it was. In fact, it felt more like a relief than anything, knowing that someone outside his close-knit circle of friends knew and, apparently, didn't see it as a big deal. Of course, this was Gerard Way, who had admitted to dressing in drag and managed to claim to want to save lives and actually mean it. That was a rare talent.

Gerard narrowed his eyes at Spencer. "Want to get out of here? I don't know about you, but I'm craving pancakes."

"Pancakes."

"There's nothing better than pancakes," Gerard said earnestly. Spencer wasn't able to hold back the urge to roll his eyes.

And that was how Spencer found himself at an IHOP with Gerard Way. Somehow they never ran out of things to talk about, though Spencer often found himself blushing throughout the entire conversation. He couldn't help it. Gerard got excited about the simple things in life and when he did he was just adorable. 

"So, we're both in Seattle in two weeks," Gerard said as they stood, dropping a tip onto the table. 

"And how do you know that? Are you stalking me now?" Spencer teased, a small part of his brain in utter awe that he felt comfortable enough to practically flirt with Gerard.

"Nah, Wentz's been pestering Mikey to check out his protégés," Gerard said. "He emailed us the tour dates."

"Oh."

"Anyway, I was thinking maybe we can meet up," Gerard said as they exited the building. Gerard practically beamed at him. "Maybe talk or something."

"Okay," Spencer said quickly. "I can...I can manage that."

*

"You're leaving us to become a My Chemical Romance groupie!" Brendon wailed dramatically.

"Did I miss something?" Spencer asked, looking at the others.

"Someone spent nearly all night with one Gerard Way," Ryan practically singsonged. Jon said nothing, an expression caught on his face that, depending on the way one looked at it, was both sour and confused.

"We had dinner," Spencer said, rolling his eyes.

"But...you don't think he's prettier than me, do you?" Brendon asked.

"I...well..." Spencer trailed off, eyeing Brendon.

"Oh come on, Brendon," Jon said, smiling slightly. "Everyone knows that Spencer's the pretty one."

*

Spencer had only had one boyfriend in his lifetime. If Mitchell Carter could be considered a boyfriend. They had gone out on three dates and on the third Mitchell had allowed his hands to get a little too friendly. 

Spencer had ended up with a black eye, proof that Mitchell's father had never taught him to not hit a girl, and a rumor had quickly spread around the school about the fact that Spencer wasn't, in fact, a boy. Spencer had found irony in the fact that he wasn't being persecuted by his peers because he was gay, but because he was apparently a female pretending to be a guy who wanted to date other guys.

Because of that, Spencer had never become adept at flirting or figuring out when someone was flirting with him. Which is why he didn't notice it at first. Besides, it was Jon.

Ever since Spencer had hung out with Gerard and began texting him on a regular basis, Jon seemed to double his effort to hang out with him. Ryan watched all of this with a worried expression, but he never said a word to Spencer, possibly afraid of what would happen if Spencer found out that Jon was developing some sort of crush.

The closer they got to Seattle the more often Jon was found at Spencer's side. Or bringing him a latte. Or trying to find the correct kind of muffins Spencer liked for breakfast.

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asked, reaching out to press the back of his hand to Jon's forehead.

"Yeah, why?"

"I don't know, you seem kind of out of it," Spencer said, almost suspiciously.

"Aww, I didn't know you cared," Jon teased, bumping into Spencer's side and grinning.

"I don't, but Brendon might cry if you die," Spencer replied, inspecting his nails. He could almost feel Jon chuckle. A soft smile fought at Spencer's lips. He glanced up at Jon, momentarily caught by Jon's gaze, before he reached down and grabbed his duffle bag. "Come on. We've got to check into the hotel."

They found Ryan and Brendon in the hotel, arguing over who was sharing. Finally, Ryan sighed and walked over to Spencer. "You're going to have to share with Jon tonight."

"What? But what if--?" Spencer began.

"Brendon and I have some things to talk about, lyrics and stuff," Ryan said. "Maybe tonight would be a good night to tell him."

"Yeah...yeah," Spencer sighed, accepting the card key from Ryan and heading for the elevator. He threw his bag onto one of the beds upon entering, shutting the door and heading for the bathroom. He had forty-five minutes before Gerard was due to show up, just enough time to take a shower.

He ignored the mirror as he unbound his breasts, throwing the binding onto the counter. He sighed, bit his lip, and looked down. They were smaller, by barely half a cup size, since the last time he had taken the time to look at them, before he had started the testosterone shots. His eyes jerked away and he continued to strip, throwing everything onto the floor and starting up the water.

The shower was relaxing, the warm liquid pounding at his aching back and shoulders. He took his time. At one point he heard Jon knocking on the door, yelling that he was going out to grab something to eat. It wasn't until the water turned lukewarm that he realized he had been in the shower for nearly the full forty-five minutes. He shut it off and yanked the curtain to the side. He took a moment to rotate his arms, relishing the lack of stiffness.

As he was reaching for the towel a short knock hit the door and Jon poked his head in. "Hey, Spencer, are you still in..."

Spencer screeched, fighting with the towel to cover himself. He held it against his body, from his shoulders down, looking at Jon, who stared back with wide eyes.

"...here." Jon finished weakly.

"Fuck," Spencer croaked, stepping out of the tub. Jon took a hasty step back, the door opening wider and hitting the wall. "Jon, stop."

"You're a girl," Jon stated, shaking his head. "I don't understand. Why...?"

"I'm not!" Spencer snapped, before clenching his eyes shut. "I mean."

"I don't know about you, but that was a girl's body right there." Jon sounded almost hysterical, like his world had been turned upside down. Spencer opened his eyes to see Jon take another step back. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because it was my secret to tell," Spencer whispered. "And I didn't want you to look at me the way you're looking at me right now."

"Right. Okay. Right." Jon stumbled back farther, before heading for the door.

"Jon!" Spencer hovered in the doorway of the bathroom, feeling exposed and vulnerable without his clothing or bindings. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too." Jon didn't look at him as he stepped out of the hotel room. "I just...I need some space and time and...fuck."

Spencer watched him leave, the door remaining wide open. Spencer couldn't risk rushing over to close it, in case someone walked past and saw his body, so he stepped back into the bathroom and changed as quickly as possible. He forwent the binding, leaving his breasts free for the first time since they started appearing. He didn't have the time if he was going to stop Gerard from showing up. He fumbled with his Sidekick, scrolling for Gerard's number as he emerged, heading for the door to shut it.

"I hope you weren't planning on canceling," Gerard commenting, stopping him from shutting the door and glancing at the cell phone. Spencer blinked and stared at Gerard, not bothering to hide how upset he was. Gerard's face lost all teasing and he pushed himself inside, shutting the door behind him. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Jon," Spencer whispered, walking over to his bed and sitting down. He grabbed a pillow and hugged it to his chest. "He...saw me."

"Without the mask?" Gerard asked softly, carefully sitting next to him. Spencer nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," Spencer said.

*

Gerard let him mope for about an hour, before Spencer's sense of self kicked in and he returned to the bathroom to put on his binding and make sure he didn't have tear tracks on his face. His hair ended up looking a little wild, but Gerard never commented so Spencer figured it couldn't be that bad. 

"Do you actually want to go anywhere?" Gerard asked, glancing at the clock. "It's nearly midnight. You need to get some sleep so you can be at the venue in time tomorrow."

"What about you?" Spencer asked, crawling back up the bed and falling onto his side next to Gerard.

"Free day," Gerard grinned. Spencer smiled weakly and glanced at the other bed. Gerard sighed. "He's going to come back."

"Brent didn't," Spencer pointed out.

"No, but...I think Jon's in it for the long run. He just needs some time to think about this and to...well, see how beautiful you are, male or female," Gerard said, reaching out to brush Spencer's hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah, right," Spencer muttered, rolling onto his back.

Gerard rolled to accommodate, ending up practically on top of Spencer. Spencer's breath caught in his throat and his stared up at Gerard, who grinned. "I like to surround myself with pretty things, Spencer Smith. I wouldn't have made the effort to be your friend these past two weeks if I didn't think you were handsome and worth it."

"I guess that explains Frank," Spencer commented.

Gerard laughed. "Probably."

"I don't feel very pretty or handsome," Spencer whispered. Gerard leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the corner of his mouth.

"Good thing your opinion doesn't really matter right now," Gerard joked.

And somehow, Spencer ended up kissing Gerard back. It was stupid and ridiculous, because all Spencer really wanted from Gerard was friendship, but no one had ever touched him like that while knowing what he was. Hell, the closest he had ever come to this was fumbling kisses in the back of Mitchell Carter's Volvo and a hand that had nearly bruised his ass (and later, his face).

This was so much better than that. Spencer whimpered softly into Gerard's mouth, clutching at the soft material of Gerard's shirt. He could feel Gerard pressed along his side, one hand resting on his hip. Gerard's tongue traced across his lower lip lightly and Spencer's mouth opened, deepening the kiss. 

Desire began to fill Spencer's veins and his hips automatically rocked toward Gerard's. Gerard groaned into his mouth. Spencer gasped in response, the sound running straight down his spine. Heat pooled at his stomach and as Gerard lifted his hand, fingers trailing down Spencer's neck, an ache formed between his legs. Spencer moaned, body arching up against Gerard, as a strange throbbing sensation centered between his thighs. He felt empty, aching.

Immediately a sense of confusion overwhelmed him. His body wanted something inside, to hit some kind of unknown spot that Spencer hadn't realized existed. But the rest of him didn't recognize the feeling as his own.

Spencer shoved at Gerard's shoulders and jerked away, breathing frantically. Gerard let him go easily, watching warily as Spencer withdrew to the opposite side of the bed, back hitting the headboard. Spencer curled up, forehead resting on his knees. 

"Spencer," Gerard said softly, voice sounding raw. Spencer fought down a spark of arousal and drew in a shaky breath. Gerard's hand--delicate, artist's hands--gently rested on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, it just," Spencer bit his lip and looked up. "It felt wrong. That's not what it's supposed to feel like. I don't...I'm messed up. I'm sorry."

"Fuck, stop apologizing," Gerard ordered. "I get it, okay? It was probably a good idea to stop, anyway. I mean...yeah, good idea to stop."

"Yeah, aren't you supposed to be saving yourself for Frank?" Spencer asked, smiling tentatively at Gerard's protest.

*

 

Spencer didn't know when Gerard left. He remembered dosing lightly and being kissed on the cheek, followed by the distant sound of the door shutting. So, by morning he was alone. He took another shower, because showers were a privilege during tour season so he was going to use it up as much as possible. When he emerged, fully dressed, Jon was sitting on the unused bed still in the clothes he'd had on the night before.

"Hey," Jon said, staring at his feet. Spencer ran his hand through his hair and sat across from him, waiting for Jon to speak. "Ryan called me a bastard. Brendon cried. I didn't get it. I mean, you're just pretending to be a guy right? Because the scene is hard for girls, especially girl drummers. No one takes them seriously. But...they wouldn't react that way if that's all it was."

Spencer shook his head, but otherwise said nothing. He was afraid to speak.

"I spent most of the night walking around town," Jon admitted. "I'm sorry, Spencer."

"So Ryan didn't tell you about...about me being transgendered?" Spencer asked.

"No, I had to figure that out on my own, though I'm still...I don't get it," Jon said. "I've never met anyone that was...that."

"I don't mind answering questions," Spencer told him. "It's better for you to ask than to just assume."

Jon nodded and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Are you and Gerard, you know?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure what that has to do with this conversation, but no, we're not."

"Oh. Good." Jon cringed. "I mean, it's probably for the best or something." Jon let out a breath. He looked at Spencer and smiled slightly. "I'm sorry I freaked out. If there's anything I can do to, I don't know, make you more comfortable, let me know?"

"I haven't exactly changed, Jon," Spencer pointed out. "You've just learned one extra thing about me, that's all."

"But, you're...female and--" Jon began, obviously unsure of what he was trying to say.

"I realized I was supposed to be a boy when I was eight years old," Spencer cut him off. "I've been treated like a boy by everyone, parents, Ryan. Hell, even my school gave in after the first couple of years when they realized it was more than a phase. I am male. No matter what you saw in that bathroom? I will always be male."

Jon gave a shaky nod. "Okay."

"You should take a shower," Spencer said, standing. Crossing his arms over his chest, Spencer ignored Jon and headed for the door. He paused outside in the hallway. A shudder ran through him, followed by something that could be relief. He couldn't tell, not yet. 

Jon was known for his ability to withstand life changing events, joining a band just one of them. Spencer didn't know if he would actually be able to handle this one, though. And Spencer hated that he doubted Jon, doubting his trust and devotion to Spencer and the band.

*

It became apparent within the month that followed Spencer's talk with Jon that Jon had been raised to believe women were to be treated a very specific way. Not that Spencer minded, his own mother had ingrained the concept of treating women with respect and occasionally catering to them, if the situation called for it. But. Jon wasn't just portraying his obvious ability at winning females over; he was actually directing this behavior toward Spencer.

Spencer paused as Jon opened the door, holding it for him. Spencer blew his bangs out of his face and stepped through, contemplating kicking Jon in the shin along the way. Ryan, obviously seeing Spencer's disgruntled expression, raised an eyebrow. Spencer shook his head and rolled his eyes, concentrating on maneuvering his way through the venue, hoping to get to the next door before Jon.

"Here, let me help you with that," Jon offered, reaching for Spencer's duffle bag.

"Jon," Spencer snapped, clutching the strap of his bag tightly. "Stop."

"I don't--"

"I've kept quiet for three weeks. Three weeks of you being the perfect gentleman," Spencer practically hissed. "We are going to have a talk tonight. I suggest between then and now, you stay far away from me."

"Umm." Jon shifted on his feet and looked at the floor, face starting to blossom red.

"Alright, let's go," Ryan said softly, grabbing Spencer's arm and tugging him away. "Was that really necessary?"

"I could have done worst," Spencer said.

"I don't doubt it, but now you're giving yourself half the day to think about this. You'll stew over it until you're really pissed off," Ryan stated, "and then you'll unleash all of that anger out on Jon, who is just dealing with this the best way he knows how."

"Since when are you on his side?" Spencer demanded.

"He didn't freak out, not as much as I thought he would," Ryan said with a shrug. "His entire worldview is being realigned, Spencer. Our society puts so much stock in being either male or female, trying to understand that sometimes people fall between those? That's got to be hard."

"It wasn't for you. Or Brendon."

"I was nine," Ryan pointed out. "My worldview hadn't quite been cemented yet. And Brendon was already trying to overturn the way he saw things in comparison to his parents. You were just one more thing. Jon's different. And it doesn't help that he's kind of had a crush on you."

"Fuck you," Spencer glared.

"Oh, Spencer Smith, you have no idea how smoking hot you are," Ryan said, smirking. Spencer huffed and shoved at Ryan. Smiling, Ryan reached out to push open the dressing room door. "Try to go easy on him, okay?"

"You just don't want to lose your bass player," Spencer muttered. Ryan shot an amused, if not smug, look over his shoulder.

*

How do I tell someone to stop treating me like a girl?

Spencer curled up in his bunk, hand holding his phone as he waited for the time to head back into the venue to get ready for the concert. A few minutes after he had sent the text message, his phone vibrated.

just like that Of course Gerard would think it was simple.

You're no help.

As Spencer was debating getting up to get something to drink, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and smirked, answering.

"I'll have you know, I'm very helpful," Gerard informed him. In the background, Spencer could hear Frank giggling, followed by a crash. "Fuck, Frank, what the hell? Get away!"

"Am I interrupting?" Spencer asked.

"Nothing I don't have to suffer through on a day to day basis," Gerard said, dramatically. "So, come on, spill. Tell me all your woes."

"I'm starting to feel guilty about this. I'm always running to you about my problems and we haven't even been friends for more than two months," Spencer commented. Though, the only reason he had started turning toward Gerard about all of this was because Ryan was no help and Brendon, while completely comfortable with Spencer's gender, was a lost cause in figuring out the minds of others.

"I've got nothing better to do," Gerard admitted. Gerard murmured away from the phone and Spencer fought down the urge to ask him to speak up, but Frank's loud exclamation ("Keeping secrets from us, Gee? Oh come on!") forced him to remain silent. After a moment, Gerard returned. "Anyway, I fucking save lives, right?"

Spencer laughed. "Yeah, you do."

"So, what's this about Walker?" Gerard asked.

"I never said it was Jon."

"Didn't have to be said, dumbass."

Spencer sighed, before giving in and telling Gerard about Jon's weird behavior. As he spoke, he peeked out of his bunk, looking around the bus to make sure Jon wasn't nearby to hear. Satisfied, Spencer flopped onto his back and groaned in frustration. "I mean, it's nice and all having his attention, but I don't want it to be like this. I'm not a fragile piece of glass that needs to be handled delicately."

"Dude, just confront him."

"You think that will help?" Spencer asked.

"Better than him pissing you off, right?" Gerard returned. Spencer could hear his grin.

"How the fuck did I end up with you as a friend?" Spencer demanded.

*

Brendon was looking at Spencer and Jon with narrowed eyes, mouth forming a frown. It was post-show and they were all waiting their turn for the shower. Ryan was inside now, which meant they would have another twenty, maybe thirty, minutes of waiting. Ryan enjoyed his showers a bit too much, as far as Spencer was concerned.

"So, are you two arguing or something?" Brendon finally asked.

"No," Spencer said, after Jon looked to him for the answer.

"Because you look like you're arguing," Brendon said.

"We're not."

"Okay." Brendon hummed softly for a moment, before speaking up again. "Are you sure?"

"Brendon!" Spencer snapped. "We are fine, okay? Just fine."

"Well, okay. If you're certain," Brendon nodded, tapping out a quick beat with his nail against the wall. He kept looking at them, though, like he was waiting for something dramatic to happen. Then his eyes widened. "You two aren't dating or anything are you? How come you didn't tell me? Why am I always the last to know everything--?"

"Brendon!" Spencer said.

"I mean, I was the last to learn about Spencer's girl thing, if you don't count Jon. Which I don't, because I'm pretty sure if Jon had been here from the beginning I would have been the last to know. I was even the last to learn about the pizza delivery last night. I mean, what's a guy supposed to think when nobody ever tells him anything? Don't you guys, like, love me anymore?"

"Brendon," Jon said in a tired voice.

"I'm serious, here!" Brendon said, looking like he was going to go on about this for some time.

"Okay, so you're right!" Spencer finally said. Jon's eyes bugged out. Spencer glared at him. "About us fighting, I mean."

"Oh," Brendon said, biting his lip and looking at them. "Well...then fix it." He narrowed his eyes. "Now."

"Are you ordering us around, Brendon?" Jon asked in mild disbelief.

"Yes I am," Brendon said, before he pointed toward the door. "Now I'm going to go stand in the hallway and give you two space to work out some of your problems. Got it? I expect results when I return. Oh, and since I'm doing you a favor, I get the next shower."

Spencer sighed and threw himself on the sofa next to Jon, refusing to look over at him as his thoughts raced, trying to come up with words to make this go as fast as possible. He glanced over at Jon, catching him staring. Jon frowned and looked away. 

"Look, I..." Jon trailed off. "This is so stupid."

"We wouldn't be having a problem at all if you'd stop treating me like some girl you're trying to court in a 1950s movie," Spencer grounded out, suddenly feeling a surge of anger at Jon and the situation. He tried to fight it down, knowing that some of the problem between Jon and him was beyond even their control. If only he had told Jon the truth sooner, maybe none of this tension would have ever happened. 

"I don't--" 

"You do," Spencer interrupted, turning to look at him. Jon's eyes were large and insecure. Spencer paused. "Jon. I'm a guy. You can't treat me like that. It makes me feel..."

"What? How does it make you feel?" Jon asked, his voice soft.

"A lot of things," Spencer admitted. "Like you don't respect me, for one. Like you wish I were something I'm not. Like you're uncomfortable with the person I am, so you're trying to change me. A lot of shit goes through my head when you pull stuff like that."

"I do like you," Jon said, finally looking away. "I guess I just don't know how to react with you. I mean, you're a guy, right? But what I saw in that bathroom? Was a very, very hot chick. And the two get kind of mixed up in my head." He let out a breath, one leg bouncing nervously. "I think I like you more than I'm supposed to."

Spencer stared. Sure, Ryan had told him that Jon had a crush. But that was a crush. Crushes were built solely on physical attraction, they were things created from a distance. They didn't include a true analysis of a person's personality. Hearing Jon say that he liked him meant something completely different. It was something real and stable. 

"I suppose I can understand how that could confuse you," Spencer said, keeping his tone neutral. "Especially when sexual orientation comes into play."

"But that's the thing, it shouldn't," Jon said, laughing a little. "I'm bi, Spence."

"...Oh."

"Yeah, so, male or female, I'm attracted. It's the trying to figure out how to approach you that I'm having difficulty with. That and the fact that we're in a band together."

"I'm," Spencer said, sucking in a sharp breath, "not really sure you should approach me at all, Jon."

Jon practically flinched. "Yeah, I know, just because I think you're kind of perfect doesn't mean that you feel the same way with me. I'm sorry. I should have just asked from the beginning. It would have saved us all a lot of trouble."

"Are you done degrading yourself?" Spencer asked.

"Maybe," Jon replied, biting his lip. Spencer wasn't sure if he did it to keep from speaking or smiling.

"Look, it's just, what with the fact that I'm a guy without the correct plumbing, I think it's best if I don't have any kind of relationship," Spencer said, amazed with himself for speaking so crudely about his problems.

"What, never?" Jon asked, shocked.

Spencer could only shrug and thank whatever god that existed that Ryan chose that moment to exit the bathroom.

*

Sex was definitely a problem, though Spencer always tried to ignore the part of his brain that stated so. It wasn't like Spencer was against the idea of having sex. In fact, he kind of thought about it more than could be natural. Which probably accounted for the fact that while the idea of having sex intrigued him and even turned him on, the idea of having more than just a fantasy was a little daunting.

It didn't help that Spencer just didn't acknowledge that part of his anatomy at the best of times. And now that the hormone replacement had stopped his menstrual cycle, his thinking about it had literally halved. 

If he didn't think about it, then he didn't have to freak out over it. That was Spencer's philosophy.

Except now there was Jon and, hell, Spencer wasn't so much a coward that he couldn't admit that he wanted to touch the other man. He wanted to do more than touch if he was honest with himself, but the more he thought about it the more sirens would blare in his brain informing him that he didn't have a cock, he couldn't do the things he wanted to do.

If Spencer were honest with himself he would admit that for the first time he was regretting being transgendered. Which was stupid. It wasn't a choice, it wasn't something he could control. But if he were a girl then things would be simple. He wouldn't have to think about whether or not being with Jon was a good thing, he would just do it.

"I think you're over thinking this," Ryan said around his straw, sipping lightly at his iced tea. 

"Oh, and how is that?" Spencer asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sex isn't about the body, you know," Ryan said, his eyes drifting off as he stared past Spencer's shoulder. "It's a connection between two people, of their emotions and spirits."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "That's the sort of thing I'd expect to hear from Brendon, not you."

*

Somehow Spencer found himself in a hotel room with five travel-sized bottles of tequila and Jack Daniels and a case of Guinness. Across from him, Jon watched with a careful eye as Brendon poured each of them a series of shots.

"I'm not so sure about this," Spencer said. "Ryan--"

"Ordered us to leave him alone for the night," Jon interrupted. "Spencer, I know you don't like drinking no more than Ryan does. You don't have to drink and if you do, you get to stop when you want to. I just thought that this would be a good experience for you to have. If you're going to use alcohol for the first time you should be with friends."

"Exactly," Brendon agreed, already downing his shot.

Spencer sighed and picked up the tequila, lifted it for them to see, and brought it to his lips. He swallowed, cringing at the taste. "Okay, that's disgusting."

"Try Jack," Brendon offered, handing him another shot.

This time it burned it's way down. Spencer was certain it was stripping off layers of his esophagus. "Oh, God."

"Maybe you should stick with beer," Jon said, reaching for the Guinness. Spencer accepted the bottle and leaned back against his pillow, taking a sip of the drink--still strong, but not overwhelming--and watching the other two guzzle down shots and talk.

Spencer felt his body relax slowly and just as a vague sense of dizziness set in he placed his drink on the bedside table and closed his eyes, breathing deep. The bed dipped next to him and arms wrapped themselves around his middle. Breath brushed his neck and he hummed softly in response. Distantly, he heard the hotel door open and close. Slowly he tried to open his eyes.

"Hey sleepyhead," Jon said softly. "Brendon decided to go crash Ryan's creative time."

"He's dead," Spencer said. His voice sounded rough and he could feel Jon's eyes bearing down on him in response. He looked over. "What now?"

"I don't know," Jon murmured, nuzzling Spencer's neck. Spencer smiled.

They fell into a light doze, breathing in tune with one another. Spencer took the time to take in Jon's scent and the feel of Jon's body against his own. Spencer shifted, suddenly needing the restroom as the couple bottles of Guinness finally took its toll on his body. Gently, he rolled Jon onto his back and made his way to the bathroom. After washing his hands, he paused to peer into the mirror. His skin looked pale and slightly blurry, though that was probably from the alcohol.

He made it back to the bed and stood there, watching Jon. His eyes skimmed over Jon's features, watching the way he breathed. He took a moment to focus on Jon’s toes, which in his alcohol fueled mind looked even more adorable that usual. It took him a moment to notice the barely there curve of Jon's lips. "You're awake."

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself," Jon whispered, as his eyes opened, "I didn't want to interrupt."

"Right," Spencer snorted, climbing onto the bed. Jon grabbed his arm and yanked him down. Spencer allowed himself to be pulled down onto the bed and held his breath when Jon rolled on top of him. He waited for some form of panic to set it, but he remained calm and relaxed from the moderate amount of alcohol thrumming through his veins. Enough to comfort him, but not enough to impair his judgment.

"Hey beautiful," Jon said, smiling.

"You don't look drunk," Spencer managed.

"That would be because I'm not."

"It's a sign of alcoholism when you start to tolerate large amounts of alcohol," Spencer commented.

"Whatever you say," Jon agreed, still smiling.

Spencer felt Jon's finger trailing down his cheek, it's tip touching his skin lightly. Spencer sucked in a breath and stared up at Jon. He knew the kiss was coming before Jon even began to lean down, but the press of Jon's lips to his was still startling. The kiss was soft, a gentle touch that radiated through the rest of his body.

"Umm," Spencer started when Jon pulled back. "That was..."

"Yeah?" Jon broke into a full-blown grin.

"Yeah," Spencer repeated, lifting up to kiss Jon again.

*

As far as Spencer was concerned, he was incapable of blushing. This was a belief he had developed at an early age, when the sarcasm and general annoyance at the world set in. Ryan, however, would tell him otherwise.

"It's kind of cute," Ryan commented.

"I don't. I'm not." Spencer sighed. "There's nothing going on between Jon and I. Why would I blush? It makes no sense. Your logic is clearly flawed. Maybe you should stop smoking weed."

"My logic is perfection," Ryan replied, "and I only smoke weed every other Thursday, so I don't see how that's relevant." Ryan was silent as Jon walked past them, pausing on his way to lean over and kiss Spencer on the cheek. Ryan smirked. "Do I really have to say anything? Don't act like an idiot Spencer, I know you too well."

"I have to go."

Ryan rolled his eyes in such a way that they appeared to disappear into the back of his head. Spencer didn't stick around long enough to see them reappear.

"Now you've done it," Spencer muttered in Jon's direction as he made for the back of the bus. Seconds later, he heard Jon following, his footsteps soft and light. Spencer bit his lip and threw himself onto the sofa. "What?"

"I didn't know we were keeping it a secret," Jon commented, his tone casual and aloof. Spencer could easily see through his expression to the nervousness underneath.

"I..." Spencer winced, eyes darting away as he tried to form the words need to make this conversation not end in ruins. "I don't mind them knowing, but it's not like we've sat down and talked about what this is, exactly."

"Okay," Jon said slowly, walking over. He sat down and wrapped his arm around Spencer's shoulder, pulling him in close. "How about this? It's me and you, nothing more and nothing less. Just us. There's no need to complicate it, Spencer. It doesn't hurt to take things nice and slow."

"Yes, because life is just that simple," Spencer said.

Jon nuzzled his cheek. "I think it is." Spencer fought down a smile. "Spencer? I like you, a lot. I can totally picture myself falling in love with you, but you have to give me a chance, okay?"

He turned to look at Jon, staring at warm brown eyes. He leaned closer, kissing Jon lightly on the lips, feeling a thrum of excitement and pleasure run through him at the touch. It felt right, like his body had suddenly decided to concentrate on the feeling and the meaning, instead of the body parts. It always felt right with Jon, somehow. Spencer relaxed into the kiss, practically melting against Jon, who held him tightly as though he was going to float away. 

"Ryan and Brendon are going to give us such crap about this," Spencer whispered when they parted, before he dove back in, tongue lightly tracing Jon's lower lip. He shivered when Jon's mouth opened with a low groan.

He could feel Jon's hand slide under his shirt, up until it connected with the binding. Jon's hand twitched, before passing over the material as though it wasn't there, like he was touching skin. Spencer could almost swear that he felt the barely there touch of Jon’s fingertips and the idea made him dizzy, just as the taste of Jon made him ache with a need he had never felt before. This wasn't a couple of teenagers fumbling in the backseat of a car. It wasn't two friends kissing, either. This was more than that and Spencer could feel it all the way to his toes.

"Jon," Spencer murmured, just for an excuse to say his name. Jon made a soft sound in the back of his throat, which did something to Spencer's stomach that he couldn't describe with words. Spencer ignored it and cupped Jon's face, focusing on the slide of their tongues against one another. His thumb traced lightly across Jon's jaw line, pinky finger sliding down to press against his jugular. He felt the pulse of Jon's heartbeat against the pad of his finger.

Drawn to it, his lips trailed across Jon's cheek and down his neck, where he bit down softly, before lapping at the skin with the flat of his tongue. Jon's breath hitched and his head fell back, baring his neck. "God, Spencer."

For a moment Jon remained passive, allowing Spencer to explore the texture of Jon's skin with his tongue. Then, when it had become too much, he was surging forward, pressing a bruising kiss to Spencer's mouth, tongue invading the warm space. Spencer sucked in a shocked breath through his nose, allowing Jon to push him back into the cushions. Their chests pressed against one another. Spencer's body was twisted uncomfortably, his hip digging into Jon's stomach.

"Let me--" Spencer twisted, trying to straighten out underneath Jon, pulling him between his legs. His face flushed as Jon settled between his thighs, the weight of his body pressing Spencer into the sofa. His hands clutched at Jon's hips, watching with wide eyes as Jon's hand came up to stroke his cheek.

"Beautiful," Jon said softly.

"Shut up," Spencer replied, pulling him down for another kiss, smiling against his lips.

"I want," Jon mumbled against his mouth, tongue darting out to taste and tease. Spencer could feel Jon's hips move the smallest fraction under his hands.

"What? What do you want?" he asked, back arching in an attempt to bring Jon's warmth and weight closer.

"I want to taste you. All over."

"Fuck," Spencer groaned, hands sliding along Jon's waist, underneath his shirt where he could press his palms against the small of Jon's back. "We shouldn't do this here. Someone could walk in."

Jon pressed his mouth to Spencer's, nipped at his lower lip. "Always the logical one."

"We'd fall apart if I wasn't," Spencer said with a soft chuckle.

Jon paused, eyes turning serious. "It's okay to need people, though, to keep you sane. You can need me."

"I," Spencer swallowed, "I'm starting to realize that."

*

Spencer scratched lightly at his jaw, frowning into the mirror. His testosterone dose had been raised barely a month before and now his facial hair was growing rapidly. While he didn't mind the way it looked, he hated the way it sometimes itched. Sighing, Spencer forced his hand away from his face and grabbed his binding, wrapping it around himself with a speed that came with practice.

"Hey," Brendon greeted, bouncing into the hotel's bathroom, heading for the toilet.

"Brendon, the bathroom is occupied," Spencer informed him, hooking the binding's clasps.

"Eh, we're both guys," Brendon said nonchalantly. Spencer rolled his eyes and reached for his shirt. "You know, if that beard gets any thicker I'm going to have to start calling you a mountain man and buy you lots of flannel." He flushed the toilet and shoved Spencer out of the way with his hip so he could get to the sink. "Ooh! We should have a beard-off!"

"A what?" Spencer laughed, tucking his shirt into his pants. 

"We should see who could grow the best beard. I'll totally beat you, Spencer Smith. I'm the manliest man of them all."

Spencer pushed open the bathroom door, entering the hotel room where Ryan and Jon were arguing over the television. "I think it's safe to say that Jon's the real boy in our merry band of misfits."

"Still...I'd totally beat Ryan!" Brendon insisted, throwing himself onto one of the best, nearly knocking Ryan off in the process. "Ryan can't grow anything more than baby fuzz."

Strong arms wrapped around Spencer's hips, pulling him down into Jon's lap. Jon immediately nuzzled the side of his face, smiling against his bare neck. "Is Brendon trying to get us all to grow beards again?"

"Yeah," Spencer said, grinning.

"I think you look mighty handsome in your beard, Mr. Smith," Jon announced.

"Too bad I'm shaving it off in the morning."

Brendon gasped. "Why would you do such a thing? You rock that beard."

"Because it's a little uneven. I think it's because of changing my testosterone doses, but I can't be sure. I'm hoping I don't grow uneven beards for the rest of my life. Besides, a beard doesn't exactly go with our tour's theme. Unless you're Jon." Spencer shrugged. "It's just a thought."

"That reminds me, I've been thinking about after this tour. We've got to start working on our next album, after we've had a small break," Ryan said. "What do you all think about a cabin?"

"Only if we get to have a beard-off," Brendon insisted. The others rolled their eyes.

*

"I feel like I should be waiting for something bad to happen," Spencer said, glancing behind him to make sure Ryan was no longer eavesdropping.

"Ah, you young whippersnappers and your melodrama," Gerard replied teasingly.

"Like you're one to talk." Spencer turned the corner, stepping into another empty hallway of the venue. It was late, the stage already dismantled. They should have boarded their buses hours ago, but they were waiting for a few mechanical errors to be corrected. Particularly the brakes, which had been making funny noises all day. "I just..."

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever the saying is." He could hear Gerard chew with his mouth open before he continued, "Maybe you're just being paranoid."

"Yeah, maybe. Or I'm right and this entire relationship is going to blow up in my face. There's so much Jon and I haven't talked about."

"Then maybe you should grow a pair and sit down to discuss this with him and not me," Gerard offered. "Not that I don't mind."

"Yeah, growing a pair is one of those topics up for discussion," Spencer muttered. Gerard remained silent, waiting for him to continue, knowing he needed to gather his thoughts. "What if...? I don't plan on getting an operation done. The medical risk, the whiplash if the tabloids find out...It's not worth it, not right now, not when I'm finally starting to feel comfortable with myself. What if Jon can't accept the idea of...well."

"I don't think you give me enough credit," a soft voice said behind him. Spencer spun around, nearly knocking into Jon in the process. His cell phone fell from his hand and slid across the floor. Jon looked at him a moment, before calmly picking the phone up and holding it up to his ear. "Spencer will have to call you back later." A pause. "Don't worry, I'd never hurt him, not over this."

Spencer said nothing as Jon gently slipped his cell phone back into his back pocket, hand moving up to rest on his hip. Jon stared at him a moment, before sighing. "Spencer, I don't think you quite get it. If you did then you'd never even question my reaction to any of this stuff. This is your body, Spencer. I'm not self-centered enough to believe that what you do with it is my decision."

"I know," Spencer whispered. "I just don't know how to talk about this so freely. Not even Ryan will sit down and have full-fledged conversations about it with me. It's hard knowing I can open up to you."

"What about Gerard? You seem to be able to open up to him just fine," Jon said, not hiding his bitterness.

"That's different."

"How? How is that so different? No, forget that, it's actually kind of worse. He's not even a member of the band."

"That's why!" Spencer snapped. "He's outside of the problem, away from the situation. I don't have to see him day in and day out. I don't have to face how he really feels or even care about how he really feels, not like I do with you."

"I know I freaked out at first," Jon said slowly, deceptively calm. "I know I screwed up, but I didn't know that you still held that against me. It's been months, Spencer. Months of me falling... You know what? Forget it. Maybe we shouldn’t have this conversation."

Jon turned to leave, the shuffle of his flip-flops almost inaudible. Unable to bear the expression that had been on Jon's face, Spencer grabbed his arm and pulled him back around. "Don't leave."

Jon's eyes darting around him, never landing on Spencer's face, but he didn't move. 

"I get so used to the idea of people viewing me differently that it kind of messes with my head," Spencer admitted. "I know you've accepted what I am, but a part of me is still searching for signs of disgust. I had the same problem with Brendon when I first told him, but I think that if Brendon was uncomfortable with me I'd still be able to function around him. You, I'm not so sure about. I've got so much of myself invested in what you think of me now. You've wormed your way into who I am, Jon Walker, and I'm not so sure I want to change that."

Jon let out a long breath, like he had been holding it for ages. His shoulders slumped slightly and a soft smile twisted at his lips. "Just talk to me, okay? About anything. About your shoes or your thoughts on not having an operation done or plots of world domination. Anything."

"Okay," Spencer nodded. He stepped closer, hesitantly pulling Jon into a hug. After a moment, he looked up at him. "Hey, what were you going to say earlier?"

"Uh, when?"

"Something about you falling...?" Spencer asked with the beginnings of a grin.

"Oh come on, you know I'm madly in love with you," Jon said gruffly, immediately burying his face in Spencer's neck. Spencer reached up and cupped the back of Jon's head, fingers running through his hair.

"Good thing I feel the same way," he said, kissing the tip of Jon's ear, feeling him shiver in response.

*

May, 2013

"Are you sure about this?" Jon asked, chewing at the bottom of his lip. Spencer dragged his eyes away from the sight and glanced at the others. Ryan hovered nearby, fingers twitching like he wanted to adjust Spencer's clothes. Brendon stood next to him, practically vibrating in one spot.

"As long as you guys are okay with it, then yeah," Spencer replied.

"You know how I feel," Ryan said, voice a deceptive monotone.

"If people can't except me for who I am then yadda, yadda, yadda," Spencer said, grinning. "I know, Ryan. I’ve heard the speech before."

"We're going to piss off a lot of people with this," Brendon commented, looking excited at the prospect. "Right wing America is going to flip! I can see the headline now: Transgendered Member of Rock Band Leads Teens to Path of Debauchery!"

"Nice, Brendon," Spencer said, shaking his head.

"Hey, Spencer, come on," Brendon walked over and sat down next to him, leaning against his shoulder and smiling. "We're going to be here for the interview. We're your support team, a team you can't get rid of, okay? But you know that if you back out now none of us will mind. Rolling Stone doesn't know why we arranged this interview, so it can just be between Pete and us. You don't have to tell the world your life story, unless you want to."

"Brendon's right," Jon agreed, pressing his nose against Spencer's cheek and breathing in. 

"I'm ready for this," Spencer said. "I need to do this."

"Then we're doing it," Ryan said, glancing at his watch. "As soon as the interviewer gets here."

"It's your day to shine, Spencer Smith," Brendon whispered into his ear. Spencer pushed him away and rolled his eyes.


End file.
